e leader. "We do
be wastin' time wid these haythen!"

The canoe rounded, passed up between the others, which closed in behind,
and the cannon-boat lumbered into place in the rear.

As he passed the strangers in their midst the tall man looked hard at
Maren, the five men, and leaned out a bit to see what lay in the bottom.

"A close shave!" he said; "kape close in the middle an' shpake me at
camp in the marnin'."

The mass of dark objects, drawing out of the light, moved forward and,
with a rush of intuition, the girl knew that all danger was past and
that safety hovered over them like the luminous wings of an angel.

"Holy Master!" she cried within, "Thou didst answer my prayer,--but at
what cost! Oh, Lord of Heaven, what cost!"

Then she dropped her blade and, under cover of the darkness, sat back
upon her heels, covered her face with her hands, and wept.

In the silence that had fallen deep again, save for the lessening tumult
behind, her weeping sounded to the outermost canoe low and awful, hard
and terrible as the weeping of a man.

She did not even feel if the breath was still in McElroy.

Friendship was taking its toll of love.

CHAPTER XXVI SANCTUARY

"'Twas yer leader I meant, lassie, should rayport to me. Is it he I saw
yez rollin' out like a bag o' beans?"

"Nay, M'sieu," said Maren Le Moyne, standing before the tall man in the
flush of dawn at the morning camp, her eyes red-rimmed and the curling
corners of her mouth drooped and sad; "what poor leader there is among
us has been myself."

"Eh?"

All along the river bank were little fires, their blue smoke curling
up to the blue sky above, the bustle and fuss of preparation for the
morning meal. At one place in the centre of camp two women, their
appearance that of great fatigue, were languidly directing the work of
a couple of Indians. An abundance of truck was everywhere--utensils for
cooking, clothing, and blankets out of all reason to one used to the
trail.

These things had not escaped Maren as she came through them in search
of the leader. They all set his status in her mind, told her much of the
history of her rescuers.

"Eh?" he said in surprise again; "you the leader? An' whatlike was the
evil hap that placed ye in among that rabble o' painted beauties, may
I ask? An' how comes a slip of a lass"--he looked her over from head
to heel with his sharp grey eyes; "--well, not so much a slip, still a
colleen--like you wid th' command